


We've been here too long (tryin' to get along)

by notsowriterly



Series: Percy Jackson Tumblr Reposts [5]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Goody Two Shoes!Annabeth, I have absolutely zero idea what I'm doing with this fic, Making Out, Punk!Percy - Freeform, Sexual innuendos, in other words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5235674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsowriterly/pseuds/notsowriterly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which there is the literal tugging of pigtails and a bunch of sexual frustration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We've been here too long (tryin' to get along)

Percy was annoying. Annoying, a troublemaker, a devil may care ingrate that didn’t seem to really care about anything or anybody.

None of this explained why Annabeth was currently making out with him behind the bleachers. It’s just…his lip ring. And the way he scraped his teeth across her lip and said her name, low and husky, in the moments they pulled away for air. And the way his eyes went dark when he looked at her, looking like he wanted to devour her when all she’d done was tap her pencil against her lip.

Okay, so maybe she’d done that on purpose.

She couldn’t exactly help it. Percy was infuriating, coming to class everyday and slouching in the chair behind her, and tugging on her ponytail like he was a boy of ten, not almost eighteen. And the way he’d smirk every time she turned around to glare at him made her want to punch him in the face. Or do other things to him. Things similar to what they were doing now, actually, involving his lips, his hands, his _body_ …

Ahem.

None of it really made any sense. By all logic, she should hate Percy Jackson. He was her antithesis, the black to her white, the Joker to her Batman. By all counts, the first day, she should’ve of requested a seat change, a class change, maybe even a school change when he grinned wickedly from behind her seat that first day. He was trouble, and his face alone was a warning sign enough to keep anyone out.

But Annabeth Chase didn’t run away from anybody. It wasn’t her nature. Not even blue eyed trouble makers with husky New York accents that called her “Wise Girl,” in that lazy drawl that made the moniker seem like it meant something inappropriate.

He did that for months, and for months she’d sat in that class, tense, coiled like spring for the next time he’d tug on her hair or teasingly run a finger down her spine. She didn’t know what changed that week, what made her want to pay him back for all of it.

So one day, she’d worn a skirt. One of her less demure ones. His eyebrows hiked up his forehead, and he took in the long lines of her legs, before flicking up to meet her eyes. He seemed shocked, as much as bad boy Perseus Jackson could be shocked. She’d smirked at him, and his face lit up. Maybe this was the point she should’ve stopped, seeing the mischievous look on his face. The way his eyes would flick to her legs when he knew she was looking. The way he’d said, “Nice legs, Wise Girl, what time do they open?”

She definitely should’ve stopped then. Instead she crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow, and snapped, “Way past your bedtime, Seaweed Brain.” And he looked even more delighted at that.

And so it started. She’d bite her eraser. He’d manage to brush a hand up her arm. He’d drawl out an innuendo. She’d snap back a biting reply. Neither one wanted to give. It was a war, waged with barely there touches and heated glances from the corner of their eyes, and it had to end somehow. Someone had to give. So it wasn’t exactly surprising when one day, a hand yanked her behind the bleachers and suddenly there was Percy’s mouth on hers, hot and furious.

She broke off with a gasp, this time actually taking a step back, pausing him from kissing her again like he did before. He raised an eyebrow. “We’re going to be late to class,” she said breathlessly, and he rolled his eyes.

“So?” he said, tugging her back to him by her hips and leaning in to kiss her again. She put a hand on his mouth, and he sucked on her fingers, eyes searing as he looked at her. It took all her willpower to pull her hand away, and take a step back again.

“So, unlike you, I hope to actually pass,” she said firmly, and before he could reply, she turned around and strode back to class, ponytail bobbing, hips swaying. As he followed her, she was pretty sure he was staring at her ass. The thought made her grin viciously.

——

Midway through the period the next day, there was a tug on her hair. This time she turned around and gave him a heated once over, then met his eyes and pointedly bit her lip. He smirked, and then winked.

“Want to meet me after school in my car, Wise Girl?”

She didn’t answer, but when she turned around, she allowed herself a small, secretive smile.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Joan Jett's "Do You Wanna Touch?"


End file.
